


The Black Sheep

by Nataruma



Category: Blood Elf - Fandom, World of Warcraft
Genre: Barebacking, Blood Elves, Blood and Violence, Bondage, Control, Kinky, M/M, Mouthy Bottom, Nipple Piercings, No Lube, Painful Sex, Painplay, Rope Bondage, Sounding, Urethral Play, Violent Sex, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:19:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4976944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nataruma/pseuds/Nataruma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maladar Bloodwrath, successful blood elf alchemist and secret dabbler in filthy Demonologist warlock acts, was once a brooding self-destructive teenager, thanks to the pressures and expectations of a father more concerned with family prestige and honour, than the dark direction his son's magical talents had taken. Equally questionable were young Maladar's sexual tastes, exercised without caution and often explored with the help of his brother's shield mates. In this snippet the elves involved are at the maturity level of 16 (Maladar) and 23 (Thalden). Mentioned briefly at the end, Darys is Maladar's older brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Black Sheep

Maladar licked his chapped lips. They had gone dry from his panting and gasps. Thalden ran his thumb along the lower one, ripe like a wedge of grapefruit, and just as delightfully pink. He hadn’t thought the reclusive spider of a youth would be anything like this, and yet his advances had been answered, however subtle they had been in public. But in the darkened rooms of the love dens in Silvermoon’s Murder Row, the severely slim Bloodwrath son was a magnificent black rose of passion.

His thin arms were lashed together and bound against his back, beneath which a criss-cross of switch welts had gone a vibrant shade of violet. They offered not as much discomfort as that which was promised by the apparatus gleaming at the expectant mouth of his cock tip. Maladar’s eyes flicked up to catch Thalden’s gaze, nervous for a change, and Thalden delighted in the look. Had he finally found the youth’s undoing?

The ropes wound around Maladar’s thighs and shins creaked slightly as he shifted, twitching when cold metal touched feverish skin. The oiled tip of the sound touched the youth’s urethral opening and Maladar went still as a mouse, his gaze dropping to the point of contact, the beating of his heart a fast thrum in his chest and ears. This he had not done before, this might prize from him the cries Thalden was challenged to pull from him.

It was not a game. No, never a game. It was a test of his will, it always had been, from the very first time he had allowed Thalden to take his virginity, to the moment he demanded a whip be set against his back. All of it at Maladar’s behest. However, this sort of play was beyond Maladar’s scope of imagination, Thalden had found some surprising new element to add to their sexual liaisons.

It was cold going in. Thalden held Maladar’s cock firmly in one hand, cinched around the base with a tight leather band, while the other slowly tilted the mithril sound until it tipped upright and began to sink into the youth’s cock. Maladar groaned in surprise, the stinging invasion coaxed twitches of discomfort in his knees and shoulders. He tried to pull away when the pressure of that stinging pain mounted and made him hiss, then whimper.

“Give in?” Thalden asked, pinching the sound between his fingers to temporarily stop its inexorable descent.

Maladar shook his head from side to side, though his ability to speak was stolen by the burn inside of his cock. Flecks of sweat fell from the moist ends of his dark hair and spilled off his neck onto his chest and back. Down the sound descended once again and the youth threw his head back in silent mimicry of a pained howl. The urge to urinate was overpowering for long moments during the final inches of the sound’s invasion, then receded slowly as Thalden fastened the devilish tool around the tip of Maladar’s cock by the attached ring. It fit snugly around the glans and wouldn’t be going anywhere without his assistance.

“I’m impressed,” Thalden commented with raised brows, shaking his head in wonder.

Another elf would not have stood for the treatment if they so much as felt a pinch of their hair. Maladar never said no to anything, it was slightly unnerving at times how much the boy wanted to suffer through, and still his cock was as stiff as a freshly cooled iron ingot. The pleasure Maladar seemed to derive from this sort of treatment… It was oddly invigorating to the one in control.

“Wouldn’t take much to impress you,” Maladar said when he finally moved past the pain and regained his ability to speak steadily.

Thalden smirked, before smacking Maladar across the cheek for his impertinence. He heard the sharp noise echoing in the dim room around them, his ears twitching at the pleasurable effect of it as well as the sight of the dark-haired boy’s head snapping to one side.

“You call that discipline?” Maladar inquired, sneering back up at Thalden with a challenging look in his eyes. “You hit like a girl.”

Thalden’s eyes hardened at the insult and he stepped forward, putting force behind his second belt, which left Maladar with a cut in his lower lip. That one would bruise and swell. His cock twitched with excitement at the zing and prickle of sensation in his lip, the spill of warm blood on one of his pale thighs eliciting a throbbing bounce from his cock. The motion made the bell attached to the end of the sound jingle merrily.

“You’re a freak,” Thalden accused darkly.

“Get to you, did I?” Maladar prodded, smirking despite how it pulled at the cut in his lip.

Thalden yanked on the delicate chain connected to the mithril piercings attached to Maladar’s nipples and promptly stole the smirk from the boy’s lips. Thalden pulled hard, a little too hard, until Maladar leaned forward to ease the pressure or risk permanent damage to the stiff buds of flesh. Despite this he never said stop, and Thalden had surprised and even frightened himself a couple of times with how far he had been willing to go to get a reaction.

“You’re starting to bore me,” Maladar murmured, affecting a yawn and tugging his body back to pull on the chain in Thalden’s hands.

The redhead shook his head in bafflement, then pulled again until Maladar was forced to shuffle closer or lose his nipples. The youth, bound as he was, hobbled on his knees until his face bumped into Thalden’s crotch. The paladin trainee was still wearing his uniform breeches, taut in the front where his erection was eagerly straining. He left a smear of blood on the cream coloured cloth, but Thalden didn’t take it to heart as he grabbed the back of Maladar’s head and fairly smothered him with his crotch.

Precum oozed out of the hollow sound and dribbled down Maladar’s cock and balls, the sensations all mixing together and driving the youth to new heights of pleasure. He took the lacings of Thalden’s breeches between his teeth and tugged hard until they came away, spilling the older elf’s erection out into the open before it was swallowed up by Maladar’s greedy mouth.

Where had the kid learned to suck a cock like that? Thalden wondered, his eyelids fluttering closed with pleasure as Maladar’s tongue insinuated itself into the crease of his foreskin and circled his glans. Perhaps imagination could compensate for certain things, or perhaps he was simply an amazingly quick study, whatever the reason, Maladar’s sucking was deeply appreciated. Thalden took a handful of the silk-like mop of Maladar’s hair and pulled him off his cock, regrettable as it was to lose his expert hot little mouth.

He came away with his lips moistened by saliva, Thalden’s cock a mess with the same slippery stuff. An expression of wanton lust played on Maladar’s sharp features, a beautiful medley of aristocratic shapes. How come he was never noticed outside of these intimate moments between them? He hid so well behind his curtain of black hair, and the slouched posture he purported himself with everywhere.

A curse slid free of Thalden’s mouth as he stepped swiftly behind Maladar’s back and forced him forward with one of his booted feet finding purchase at the back of the boy’s neck. He was made to balance on his knees, his ass in the air and his cheek pressed to the floorboards beneath him with a painful thud that was loud enough to have been heard in the ground floor common room below, had the floors not been reinforced with stone. Wincing, Maladar expelled a heavy set of breaths. Thalden gazed coolly at the twitching muscle between Maladar’s petite buttocks.

“Still bored?” he inquired.

“Yawn,” Maladar drawled out with pointed purpose.

Infuriated by the response, Thalden forgot himself, and dropped to his knees behind the youth with a snarl. Maladar winced at the biting tug of nails on his narrow hips, then stiffened at the sudden unforgiving introduction of Thalden’s cock at his unprepared hole. For a split-second he wondered if perhaps he should have toned the last bit of sass down, a thought swallowed up by burning pain when Thalden’s cock ripped into him a moment later.

A shrieked howl bleated out of him, yanked out by the older elf’s inelegant penetration, and Thalden’s grin was one of triumph. “Got you to scream,” he hissed out as he struggled to stuff more of himself into Maladar’s impossibly narrow passage. “Finally.”

He did more than that. The moisture of tears teetered precariously over Maladar’s lashes, and he continued to groan in pain until Thalden had seated himself completely inside of him. His first experience of the raw method was less than pleasant, and it had broken his will and yanked from him an outcry. He was clearly not as strong as he needed to be…

Thalden’s hard muscled body fetched up against his bound arms and back, one of the trainee’s calloused palms sliding up Maladar’s belly and chest, his teeth nibbling their way up the youth’s good ear. The pain didn’t seem as bad when he began to move, but perhaps the aching prickle in his cock was taming the stinging burn in his ass some. Thalden flicked his fingers against the mithril sound and made Maladar buck against him as a result, his noises turning desperate.

“Coming?” Thalden inquired in a grunt, thrusting hard into the pliant body beneath him.

Maladar’s voice quavered, but he managed to say that he wasn’t ready yet. Thalden picked up the pace, driving into Maladar’s delicious tight hole without holding himself back, not even when he saw blood. His other free hand closed around Maladar’s cock and stroked it as gently as possible, given there was a metal rod trapped within, but the friction of that contact threatened to spill the youth over the edge. He bucked harder and began to mutter desperate words for Thalden to keep going.

Minutes of grunting, grinding and moist rutting passed, until Maladar had bathed Thalden’s hand with precum, then the thrusts intensified as Thalden neared his climax. Maladar wasn’t far behind. He felt the wetness of orgasm spill inside of him, electrifying his limbs and pulling from him his own climax. Three or four generous jets of come streamed out of the mithril funnel in his urethra and streaked across the floorboards.

When they were both spent Maladar felt like his limbs had turned to jelly, his mind buzzing with white noise. After Thalden had recovered from his blinding pleasure, he began to unfasten the ropes from around Maladar’s limbs, as gentle now with the youth as he was rough before. The ropes had chafed marks into the white pallour of Maladar’s complexion, but he had never complained before, nor did he now, he simply went limp, Thalden’s seed leaking out of his rear once he was freed and was able to relax against the floorboards.

The redhead tapped him on the hip and Maladar shifted, allowing Thalden access to his as yet trussed up cock and piercings. Maladar took a deep breath, which he then eased slowly out of his lungs as Thalden coaxed the sound back out after loosening it from around his cock, followed by the uncomfortable leather cinch at its base. The mithril chain was clipped off his nipple rings, and once he was divested of all the trimmings, the youth pulled away from Thalden’s contact like a snail into its protective housing.

Maladar refused healing. He always had, and Thalden didn’t know the reasons for it, given that his whipping left marks that stayed on Maladar’s delicate flesh. How did he explain these things to his older brother, or indeed his father? Or did he skulk about in the Bloodwrath manor away from prying eyes until he had healed?

The slight frown marring Thalden’s features smoothed gradually as he watched Maladar struggle to his wobbly legs and deposit himself gingerly on the edge of the bed they had not used. Spidery fingers threaded through the mop of his moist black hair. Thalden thought he always looked broken at the end of their sessions together, but would be stunned into silent awe when Maladar looked at him as if he was an insignificant ant, just as he did then.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Thalden’s smile was brief and regretful. He didn’t love Maladar, he doubted anyone could. The boy was so strange, and bristled like a hedgehog when he wasn’t caught in the midst of the act of having sex, he would never have thought him remotely approachable if they hadn’t kissed one afternoon in secret. The regret was born of not knowing how to stop their association, when he was starting to crave being cruel just as much as Maladar seemed to crave being treated cruelly.

He tugged his breeches back on, desiring less and less to be stuck in the room with this oddly hostile and morose version of the youth, fishing inside his jacket pocket for what Maladar was seeking. The gold had been counted out before their meeting, as always, and he tossed the little leather pouch it was in towards the bed.

“Does your father know that you’re whoring yourself out to Darys’s sparring mates?” Thalden asked, a part of him having always been curious about that, ever since they started their mutually beneficial association.

Maladar’s lips curled up in a small smirk that was both secretive and a touch venomous. “You could fill the whole Bazaar with things my father doesn’t know about me.”


End file.
